Nomenclature
by drakonlily
Summary: Rude and Tseng after a job, talking about race and what really is in a word. Thirty minute challenge fic. Rating due to strong language. [one shot]


Nomenclature

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Tseng really hated Midgar. With a passion unlike most people knew possible. He put up his front, as the new leader of the Turks. He did it well. No one knew that he felt his servitude with ShinRa was akin to being chained to a vat of acid. If he moved too much, he was going to get burned. At least the people in ShinRa knew he spoke perfectly good English. On the streets and in small towns he wasn't so lucky.

In the inn outside of icicle the waiter spoke far too loudly and slowly to him. In the end, Tseng had resorted to snapping at him that he was not fresh off the boat and could understand him regardless of speed or volume. Tseng then chose not to comment about the "Wute" remark he heard the man say leaving the table.

Sitting across from him was Rude. It was lucky the mulatto man was so large, or he would never be noticed. Well, maybe it wasn't just his size that drew attention. His hair had been red before Hojo left him bald. Tseng sometimes amused himself wondering what Reno's mess would look like on the top of the big Turk. Grey eyes that were always covered up by glasses, were also different. Unless Rude got outside in the sun for a few days, it was really impossible to tell his background.

Their last assignment did happen to put them in the sun. Rude's skin darkened almost immediately, a rich brown. He lit a cigarette, the white smoke curling around his broad nose. Tseng lit one of his own and finished almost two cups of coffee before Rude spoke. Grey eyes regarded the waiter, "racist fuck."

Tseng snorted, leaning on the table. "You get used to it. I almost answer to Wute nowadays."

He could tell Rude rolled his eyes from the movement of the mako shine around his frames.

"What am I supposed to do? I mean seriously, what are we really supposed to do about it? They send you and me to small towns like this to get their damn jollies…" Tseng raised his hand to pull the waiter back. He didn't bother to stop his conversation. "You know they do Rude. They send the Wute and the Mutt in because we shake people up."

Rude shrugged. "But that isn't all you are. People throw words at me all the time. It doesn't define me."

Tseng blinked then laughed. "It's hard though?"

Rude shrugged. "I deal."

"You dealt real well back there at the job. I never saw someone actually get punched into a wall and leave a hole."

This drew a smile to the big man's face. "It was because he was dumb enough to call a 6'6 man that could curl him a "nigger". Seriously, did he think I was going to smile and tap dance around his ass?"

Tseng laughed again. "Can you tap dance?"

Rude threw money on the table and stood rolling his eyes again. Tseng stood and followed his partner up to their room. Rude did as he always did, throwing his shirt on a chair and flopping to the bed, kicking his shoes off last, since his feet hung over the bed anyway. Tseng sat his cigarettes down and frowned. Sometimes he wondered if Rude knew how lucky he was, half the time the big man passed as white. And if he didn't, as he had said, who would be stupid enough to call a man his size a name? Tseng's small build did nothing to intimidate. That wasn't his job. He was there to talk, make orders and demands.

He got up and went to the bathroom. Tseng looked at himself in the mirror with a frown. No amount of gym going would make him intimidating. At any rate, the war between Shinra and Wutai had done more then enough to cause an attitude about his race. He turned to leave the bathroom and almost careened into Rude. "Damn man, make NOISE when you move." He tried to snap.

"That waiter really bothered you Se, don't pretend he didn't." Rude leaned in the doorframe, still with those sunglasses on.

"So what if he did, not a damn thing I can do about it." Tseng hated feeling huffy, but he knew enough to admit that he sounded so.

"It bothers you what they think? After all this time?"

Defeated, he felt his shoulders slump. "Just once in my life, I want someone to know me. Not to define me as something." He hadn't expected Rude to do what he did next. The big man moved forward, closing the space between them. A big hand came up and touched his nose.

"I know you Se." Was all he said. Then he turned and left the room.

Tseng backed up, staring at himself in the mirror as if Rude's touch could have marked him. He allowed himself to smile. The big man was right, what really was in a name? Nothing but the label.

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A/N: A Tseng/Rude challenge done in 30 minutes, no editing. 


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